


captain's cabin

by dutchydoescoke



Series: where we will, we'll roam [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, Deleted Scene, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 09:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: She turned, then, and went to the captain’s quarters, away from those who would give her pitying looks over the loss of Matthew.





	captain's cabin

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scene #1 from "the song has been sung" is here. This originally would have been in place of the last line from Emma's POV in the beginning. It is rough and unfinished because I trimmed it before it got unwieldy and never really finished it.
> 
> Fun fact: This was the moment where I went "oh shit I really do ship it" and decided to just run with the E/M/T thing.

She turned, then, and went to the captain’s quarters, away from those who would give her pitying looks over the loss of Matthew. The bed they’d been in mere days ago was still unmade, pillows knocked askew and their clothes from that morning still piled on the floor, their spare pairs of boots tucked under the bed next to each other. It hurt her to look at, so Emma looked at the desk, paper covering almost every inch of it, hers, Teddy’s and Matthew’s log books resting on top of the mess. She ran her fingers over the compass rose embossed on the cover of Matthew’s and tried not to let the grief that rested on the fringes of her thoughts consume her. She had a war to fight.

There was a knock at the door, one she was familiar with, and Emma called out for Teddy to come in. She didn’t look up until she realised he hadn’t stepped in more than a few feet, door still open a few inches.

“Come _in_ , Teddy,” she said and Teddy finally closed the door and stepped towards the desk. “Why the sudden hesitation?”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome,” he said, looking unsure in a way she hadn’t seen since she and Matthew had first begun courting, after Matthew joined the crew of their first ship. Then, it had been concern that he’d be in the way or that they would want him gone. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

Emma shook her head and reached out to touch his arm. She might be hurting over Matthew, but she wasn’t the only one.

“Losing Matthew doesn’t make this any less your room. And I want you here.” She never wanted Teddy to feel unwelcome, not in their room, not in their life. They would both grieve Matthew and having each other would make it easier.

Matthew was an important part of them, Emma would never deny that, but they would mourn and move on and their relationship would adapt. One day, it would be two pairs of boots under the bed instead of three. One day, there would be only two hats hanging next to the door. One day, Emma would get used to the feeling of only one body in their bed with her.

Teddy still looked unsure so Emma wrapped her arms around his middle and held onto him, resting her head on his chest. His arms came up, curling around her shoulders, and Emma smiled a little, at the comfort.

“It was the pair of us twenty years ago when we were children in Port Royal, before either of us ever knew Matthew,” she reminded him, memories of being chastened for staying out overnight with Teddy washing over her. Even young, they’d been inseparable and not even the pressure of propriety could pull them apart, sixteen and sleeping on the sand, under the stars, and finding out what her best friend’s smile tasted like.

When the _Rose_ had been in dry dock for repairs once, she and Teddy had taken Matthew to the beach, him stretched out between them, and they’d slept under the stars then, trading kisses and stories and promising to never let go.

The memory hurt to think of, an ache in her chest making her choke on it. Emma tightened her arms around Teddy and fought the urge to close her eyes. If she did, she’d see it again. The gunshot still echoed in her ears, mixed in with the dwindling chorus from the execution line and the rattle of chains as the trap door dropped.

“It was the pair of us twenty years ago,” she repeated, voice muffled by his shoulder, “and it is the pair of us again. We’ll be alright. Someday.”


End file.
